


As evening falls

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Foreshadowing of awful stuff down the line, M/M, somewhat dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of a long day, Annatar is there, because he is always there to whisper in Celebrimbor's ear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As evening falls

Celebrimbor shrugged off his heavy robe of state, rolling his shoulders wearily. Carefully, he took the delicate jewelled coronet from his head, placing it in its box in the wood-panelled desk drawer and locking it away. He paused for a moment, peering out of the window at the sky, where the stars were just beginning to appear in the dusky blue sky.  _There was one overhead, brighter than all the others…_

“Enjoying the view?” came a soft voice from behind him accompanied by a quiet laugh.

Celebrimbor started, whirling on his heel. “Annatar. I did not hear you come in.”

Annatar inclined his hair, his hair falling loose over his shoulders. “My apologies, my lord.”

Celebrimbor nodded to show his acceptance. The Maia could be disconcertingly silent at times; this he knew he ought to be used to by now. “I am…” he smiled wryly. “Let me just say that the number of people coming to beg an audience with the lord of Eregion on matters both deathly dull and maddeningly inconsequential has increased sharply of late. Or at least it seems that way.”

He smiled in thanks as Annatar poured them both glasses of wine from the decanter on the table, sipping the rich red and running his fingernail through the grooves in the fine cut-glass goblet, tracing the outline of the star with eight points. It was a habit he had. “Would you believe there was a dispute that someone saw fit to take up with me over the ownership of a sliver of swampy land barely large enough to stretch one’s arms across, which two families lay claim to, but which is currently being occupied by a vast and apparently hideous population of vile, trespassing frogs and newts? Or that a girl came to try to push the idea of a royal pig-circus of Eregion? Except that all her trained pigs had run off at the sight of the guards. But it wouldn’t have been very  _royal_ anyway, since I am only  _lord_ , not  _king_. And then of course there’s the matter of the consignment of chestnuts that went astray, and no one can seem to agree on whose fault it is.” He took another sip of wine. “Is this what ruling is? I suppose so.” He laughed quietly to himself. “You’d think I’d be accustomed to this by now, but all I could think about for the last half of the afternoon was getting back to my workroom and having another look at those gemstones we were inspecting yesterday.”

“And they of middling quality” said Annatar, pulling up a chair for Celebrimbor and propelling him down into it. “Well, it sounds as though you need something a little more…” he tilted his head, a smile playing about his lips. “Diverting.”

Celebrimbor stared into Annatar’s amber-gold, liquid eyes, those eyes that he still found beautiful and unsettling in equal measure. “No” he sighed. “This is what I must do. I ought to be used to it by now. These are my people, as much as the smiths and natural philosophers and poets, and if ruling them means presiding over a few inconsequential debates about pigs and chestnuts, then it seems that is how I must spend my afternoons.”

“But not how you must spend all your time” said Annatar, lifting the glass from Celebrimbor’s hands and placing it carefully on the table, taking Celebrimbor’s hands and scrutinising his palms. “You want the stars” he gestured out the window into the star-dusted evening sky, “but the everyday reality of ruling is pigs and chestnuts, mud and mundanity. If you ask me, talent like your is wasted on such things. Set up a council to handle the pettier disputes, and come and - ”

“I did  _not_  ask you” interrupted Celebrimbor, more heatedly than he had intended. “And yet I know what you would say. But I already have a council; I sit at the head of it.”

“Seems to me that all you need is a reliable lieutenant.”

Celebrimbor narrowed his eyes, drawing back his hands from Annatar’s grasp. “You speak as though we were at war.”

“I meant it in a figurative sense only” said Annatar, waving a languid hand carelessly in the air. “Now, about the - ”

“If there were to be a war” burst out Celebrimbor suddenly, “do you think Eregion would be ready?”

“Why, the arms and armour that we produce are incomparable and - ”

“You know I don’t mean that.”

“Well” Annatar leaned forward and whispered in Celebrimbor’s ear, his velvet voice making the small hairs rise up at the nape of Celebrimbor’s neck, a not at all unpleasant sensation, “once this little  _project_  of ours is complete…”

“You mean the rings” Celebrimbor leaned back in the chair, his eyes meeting Annatar’s. “They will contain power, yes, and allow the wearer to wield it. But I do not believe that they can hold back the forces of evil, not forever. And in the hands of mortals…”

“Was it not you that assured me that mortals are just as capable and…” Annatar’s fingers ran along the shell of Celebrimbor’s ear, drawing back just as he felt Celebrimbor turn towards him at the touch, “…as…  _incorruptible_ … as you or I?”

“Yes, but - ”

“Then I see no problem there. And are you not taking time from your  _precious_ hours in your workshop to oversee the training and marshalling of the city guards?”

“I am, but…”

Annatar pushed him gently back down into the chair as he tried to rise to his feet. “Then we should be well protected.”

“We?”

“Why yes.” Annatar’s lips curled into an indulgent smile. “I plan to remain with you, for as long as you will have me. I do so enjoy our little projects.”

“And if there is to be war?”

“Then I would gladly stay as your right-hand man. I would lead your armies for you, with a sword in my hand, flying the proud banner of the house of Fëanor over my head.” His words were accompanied by a half-smile.

“Be serious, for one moment at least.”

Annatar shrugged, stretching like a cat. “I was  _trying_.” He caught the expression on Celebrimbor’s face. “So… what do you want me to say? What measures would  _I_  put in place for the defence of Eregion?”

Celebrimbor raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious. “Well, I would be interested to know.”

“If I commanded an army” said Annatar quietly, going behind the chair and slipping his long arms around Celebrimbor’s shoulders “and  _you_  were my lieutenant, I would raise you high. You would be there at the head of the column, beside me for all to see.” He had leaned forward, and was speaking into Celebrimbor’s ear, his voice barely above a whisper. Celebrimbor felt himself shiver with anticipation at Annatar’s hair brushed his cheek. Annatar drew back once more, laughter flickering in his eyes as Celebrimbor stood to face him with a growl low in the back of his throat. “As to defences, I could hardly comment. I am but a servant of the Valar, granted one that has been throroughly…” he let Celebrimbor pull him close, “…corrupted by the  _wicked_ lord of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain.”

“What nonsense you speak” said Celebrimbor, his hand tangling in Annatar’s hair behind his head.

Annatar smiled a smile that made Celebrimbor’s knees weaken. “Try to stop me.”

Celebrimbor kissed him, pressing him back against the chair where he had sat a moment before, trailing his mouth down Annatar’s smooth neck, letting his teeth brush just ever so slightly against the skin. He knew he must control himself for a moment at least, he could not give in so quickly, he had to –

Then Annatar’s hand was at the front of his breeches, and such thoughts vanished from his mind. Celebrimbor bit down hard on the soft skin where Annatar’s neck joined his shoulder. Annatar’s body pressed against his in answer, and Celebrimbor could feel they were both as hard as each other. Celebrimbor felt Annatar’s skilful hands unlace his breeches, made almost clumsy by haste.

“No” he managed to choke out. “Not here. The door isn’t even bolted, anyone could just… ah…” his words were cut off as Annatar covered his mouth with a savage kiss, their teeth clicking together.  Celebrimbor pushed him back once more, an for just a moment he caught a glimpse of Annatar’s eyes…  _the pupils looked different from usual, they were long and slitted like a cat’s, he was certain of it…_  then Annatar was roughly pulling down his breeches, taking him in hand, and Celebrimbor’s head tilted backwards in pleasure, his body strangely weak. He felt panic mingling a little with the heat and sensation rushing through him for the merest moment before Annatar caught him quickly with an arm at the small of his back, pushing him roughly over the chair, and dipped his head suddenly down to take Celebrimbor in his mouth.

The arm of the chair dug into Celebrimbor’s back painfully, his limbs contorted at odd angles, but Annatar’s mouth around him filled most of his consciousness, blocking out everything else for this moment at least, stretched out until time seemed like a smeared haze, not quite real at all.

He came suddenly, rocking into Annatar’s mouth with a strangled cry; he flung out an arm to steady them, but his hand connected only with the decanter of wine on the table, sending it splintering to the floor with a crash he barely heard.

“Leave it” commanded Annatar when Celebrimbor’s climax had subsided, raising his head and pinning Celebrimbor’s arm to the back of the chair with one hand, the other palm pressing over his mouth. Annatar’s nails dug into his flesh, but his lips were slick and shiny still, slightly open and twisted in an obscenely fair smile.

Celebrimbor obeyed.

Annatar’s smile was indulgent, sinful. “I knew I could rely on you, my lord.”

He let Annatar take him quick and hard, his back pressed up against the arm of the chair once more so that he was bent half over backwards. Afterwards, Annatar held him in his arms and ran a finger down his throat, lingering slightly over the pulse point, as they both stared at the spreading pool of red wine that seeped into the cracks between the flagstones, dark in the lamplight.

“A waste” mused Annatar, as though to himself. He was not looking at the wine on the floor, Celebrimbor noticed, although he said nothing. Annatar ran the tip of his finger along Celebrimbor’s jawline and then over his lips, “to sacrifice something so fine.” He smiled once more. “Still, such is life.” He ran his fingers along Celebrimbor’s lower back, where bruises were already beginning to bloom, Celebrimbor was certain. “What say you?”

He gritted his teeth, suddenly glad that Annatar had not yet shown himself to be skilled in ósanwe.  _I say that I will take what pleasure I can from you while I can, but once you have finished teaching me your craft of ringmaking and my greatest work is done in secret, then I will_   _have no more need of you or your poisoned gifts. This will end then._

“You are quite right” said Celebrimbor. He let Annatar hold him as the wine soaked into the stone floor and outside the window in the gathering darkness the stars wheeled overhead.  


End file.
